NaPoWriMo #8 (for real)
Okay, so that earlier post was a cop out. I wrote an actual poem today. Here it is.
I AM WATCHING A BOXING MATCH
I am watching a boxing match between two fighters without gloves. They are both crying. Their fighting names are me and you and these names are emblazoned on the backs of their elaborate shimmering capes that they shed before approaching the center of the ring, before the first bell, and they begin the fight passive aggressively, giving each other worrisome looks and saying things like I'm just trying to look out for you before eventually ramping things up and reminding the other of the times they were unthoughtful. The referee is allowing it this time and all this is taking place in a tiny stadium smaller than your fingernail and I never find out who wins because they take so long that i get too old and need glasses and they're too small and I don't know what's going on anymore. My memory is shot and it's hard to keep track of anything and these two fighters they keep going or at least I assume they do and the referee dies. I know that much. I saw that and attended his tiny funeral and got to see the microscopic tears on the faces of his tiny wife with her tiny, tiny children.